


Jeux Des Papillons

by astro_jen



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (gasp), Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Bee Miraculous, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, College AU, Coming of Age, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fox Miraculous, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gen, I can't write summaries pls help, Marinette and Adrien being in LOVE, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Mystery, Peacock Miraculous, Reveal, Romance, Slow Burn, angst with happy ending cause that’s what I’m about, new miraculous users, scenes depicting slight homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-05-28 17:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15053996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astro_jen/pseuds/astro_jen
Summary: Following the sudden and chaotic appearance of Hawk Moth, two teenagers are entrusted with the task of saving Paris. But only one turns up. Four years later, single-handedly defending Paris whilst juggling two separate identities has taken enough of a toll on Marinette. She’s struggling, failing university, failing the city, failing everyone. But then she meets Adrien Agreste, the model-turned-barista that ran away from home to make his own life, and for the first time in a while, things are looking up for the two. That is, until Chat Noir finally appears.





	1. Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. Sooooo basically Adrien was never allowed to attend school, and he also never found the cat miraculous or became Chat Noir. Marinette acts as Ladybug alone, but when she starts university, the constant demand of her double life becomes too much. Everything else is pretty much the same, except the canon gaps I've had to fill with my headcanons.

If you’d asked Marinette Dupain-Cheng if her life could get any worse she’d flash you an optimistic smile and enthusiastically reply “of course! I have a lot to be grateful for”. This “fake it til you make it” positive attitude Marinette clung to over the years is what’s kept her going. She had no room for self doubt. Commissary was a luxury she could not afford. Who has the time for soul-crushing anxiety when you’re juggling high school, some semblance of a social life, an aspired future as a fashion designer, a part-time job, as well as being the sole saviour of Paris? But doubt can be tenacious, insidious, parasitic, and doubt doesn’t buy your bullshit. Marinette’s life was just beginning. She’d worked so hard to be accepted into university to finally pursue her dream. She kept telling herself, she can do both. She can have it all, she just has to stay calm and hustle.

“Well, Mari?” Alya’s voice interrupted her racing mind. She blinked at the expectant red-head and then back to the blank computer screen. Shit. She had nothing. What happened to the past hour? It was already so late and this assignment wasn’t going to miraculously complete itself. But if that were in the realms of her super-human abilities, well that would just be fantastic. Her eyes began to glaze over again as she dreamt wistfully of her miraculous allowing her to freeze time, or create multiple versions of herself to plow through her formidable list of responsibilities.

“Dear lord, Marinette. Eyes over here!” Alya’s demanding voice snapped her back to reality once again. She sighed. What had they been talking about? “Jeez, girl you have GOT to get your priorities straight. Maybe you’d have more time to focus on your homework if you’d sacrifice at least one of your biweekly yoga sessions.” Alya folded her arms and whilst her stance definitely resembled that of a scolding parent, her deeply empathetic brown eyes revealed the extent of her concern for her friend. Marinette was a mess. Her pale skin had dulled and grown a sallow tinge that didn’t exactly scream health and youthful radiance. The dark circles around her vacant eyes almost created the illusion of a skeletal effect.

Marinette swallowed, “they help me relax.” She wishes. “Yoga” was just a front for her training sessions with her magical mentor, Master Fu. He was the only person who knew of Marinette’s action-packed double life. Just her luck that he also happened to be a cryptic, old Chinese man who dumped this magical burden on Marinette when she was just fifteen years old.

Alya tutted as she disappeared to another room, leaving Marinette alone to wallow once again. She argued that she deserved to allow herself just a little moment of self-pity after all these years. Besides, she had a long night ahead of her.

 

X

If you’d asked Adrien Agreste if his life could get any worse he’d stare you deep in the eyes with a fearsome intensity and hiss a certain “definitely”. In fact, Adrien’s life had just recently began to look up for the first time in years. He had finally turned eighteen. He was an adult! A free man ready to take the world however he pleased. He had his whole life in front of him. His future was his to mould and he was going to sculpt something magnificent. Just you wait. The very day of this fateful milestone he immediately marched up to his father and finally confronted him. He berated him for his years of neglect and emotional manipulation. He cursed him for his forced isolation. He blamed him for his excruciatingly lonely childhood. Who gives a damn about a successful modelling career! What kind of teenage boy would rather have perfectly sculpted cheekbones and a carefully regimented diet plan than friends, girls, adventure, a normal life.

At least, this is what Adrien outlined in his very stern letter that he so bravely left in his father’s study. Then he fled. His bag was already packed a week in advance. Over the past month, he’d squirrelled away some savings, even sold his beloved video game collection, and paid a deposit on a modest flat on the complete other side of Paris. His life awaited him. Just on the other side of these gilded gates. He waived away his security detail, the only danger to him was within those walls. Once he was on the other side he couldn’t contain the smile. He overflowed, the giddy but nervous laughs were spilling from his lips. The dam broke. He actually did it. Just like that. He walked out the gates, and then he was gone. The world was at his finger tips. What first? Who was Adrien Agreste going to be now? The anticipation sparked inside him. Nerves and excitement were so charged that an electric storm raged within.

This memory of euphoria is what kept him going, especially on the days like today. Turns out, Adrien wasn’t much of a Michelangelo, and the life he had sculpted more resembled a hunk of rubble rather than a famed statue. Adrien had no qualms with steeping himself in self-pity. Dammit, it was his divine right to mope after the hand he’d been dealt. It was supposed to get better. And, yes, whilst under no circumstances would he even consider trading his current situation for his old life in his father’s clutches, this still sucked. After half a year of living alone, this awkward “adjustment period” bared no signs of improvement. He was broke. Turns out an insulated life with Paris’ greatest and most affluent designer did not plant the seeds for financial sensibility. Nor did round the clock maid and kitchen service leave Adrian well-equipped for his sudden and very urgent need for three meals a day, washed dishes, clean laundry, and the ability to cook food without setting off the entire apartment building’s smoke alarm.

It had been rough to say the least. His saved funds from his former modelling gig soon dwindled. Fortunately, Adrien had managed to procure a job at a local coffee shop. On nights like this, where his hands were stained by stale grinds, his feet ached from the constant movement and he had heard the phrase “skinny soya” ten too many times, he tried to remain grateful. Not just for the financial security, but really what else did he have? He had wiped clean his former life and connections. His friends from the past hated him, going by their radio silence. The friends he had made here at Café D’Avril were the only he had, and without them, life would be far, far more bleak.

The astringent scent of the detergent he was using to mop down the bar filled his nostrils. He grimaced and then briefly considered filching some to use on his own floor later. It was strong stuff after all. Outside, the heavy rain danced on the pavements, every now and then an errant drop was illuminated by the amber glow of the streetlights. It was hypnotic. Adrien savoured these small meditative moments of serenity when the café was closed and it was just him, and the rain. He continued to clean absentmindedly. Although he was exhausted, he was still aware that his best friend, Nino, would be the first to the open the café tomorrow morning and he would know all about it if Adrien made a half-hearted attempt at closing the shop.

X

 

Oh shit. Oh no no no, shit! Marinette cursed her stupid phone and it’s ridiculously low battery life. A low rumble of thunder drew her a attention to the ominously dark sky above her. As if on cue, the rain splattered all around. With a gasp she rifled desperately through her bag for an umbrella. No such luck. However, in her rush to leave the apartment, she was sensible enough to grab her phone charger. She was, although, soaking wet. And alone in the streets at night with no nearby power outlets, so, not the most helpful device.

“I need foooooood, Marinette,” Tikki, the small magical being tucked in her coat pocket, whined. She sighed. Not only was her nemesis, ‘Hawkmoth’, an ongoing malevolent threat to the citizens of Paris, he was also a total jerk with terrible timing. Marinette finally found herself gaining some momentum with her assignment when, surprise! Some local aspiring artist was just rejected from their dream school and was terrorising the area with bullet-force paint brushes and demanding Ladybug’s attention. With a groan, a vague excuse to Alya, and a swift snatch of her pre-prepared-time-to-go-save-Paris-supply-bag, her homework was promptly abandoned.

One hour later, the city was saved! The akuma was stopped! The victim was consoled, the damage was magically repaired, and Ladybug was a hero. Please forgive her jaded attitude; she’s been at this for quite a while now. This time was not particularly notable. What was notable was the fact that she had escaped the encounter without so much as a graze, but immediately after transforming back into her civilian self, had tripped and injured her ankle. The last akuma incident was only two days ago which had not left Marinette with enough time to restock the money and cookies that were kept in her bag. So this is how Paris’ saviour found herself stuck away from home, unable to limp far enough, with no money, no charged phone, and no luck.

Marinette resolved to limp in the vague direction of home until she could find somewhere to charge her phone, or call Alya to come rescue her.

“I’m sorry Tikki, but I don’t have any,” she winced. Marinette was exhausted after battle, but she was a grown woman, legally at least. The tiny kwami was her closest companion these past few years, and all she asked for was a cookie to recharge her energy levels. “I’ll find something for you soon.”

The rain continued to saturate her clothing and her lose raven toned locks. She started to consider if this meant she could prolong washing her hair. A thought process that hit the limit for how much slack she was going to allow herself. This was pathetic. She was strong, capable, freaking magical for crying out loud. Successful young woman like Marinette don’t act like this. This was just a rough patch; she’d persevere. She didn’t have a choice.

Soon enough, Marinette found herself wandering through a familiar part of town. Then it occurred to her, this is near the café that Alya's parents own. The constant promise of free coffee and a friendly face enabled her caffeine addiction which consequently led to Marinette developing a reputation as a regular. Hopefully it was Alya’s boyfriend, Nino, who was working tonight and he’d let her charge her phone and maybe even slip her a cookie.

Encouraged by the prospect of warmth and baked goods, Marinette increased her pace towards Café D’Avril. As she approached the door it dawned that the Café was most likely closed at this hour. But through the gleaming windows she noticed that the lights were still on and that she could hear muffled music. With a glance to Tikki sleeping in her damp pocket, Marinette gave the door an experimental push and stepped cautiously inside.

 

X

 

“I’ve heard about him before…I wanted to know some more…and now I know what they mean, he’s a love machine…oh he makes me dizzy! Hone-” Adrien’s private concert featuring a mop bucket was rather embarrassingly interrupted by the door creaking open. With a very dignified squeal, Adrien turned to the customer to inform them that they were in fact closed. Honestly! He has a life, sort of. Who even needs coffee at 10 pm? Oh, wait. Adrien took in the sight of a very frazzled looking girl dripping wet, on his freshly cleaned floor.

“Oh…are you…okay? Here take a seat I’ll get a… ehm I’ll get you some tissues,” Adrien rushed.

The girl took a hesitant seat and sniffled, “I’m really sorry, I know you’re closed but my phone died and I forgot my purse and I’m miles away from home and I think I sprained my ankle? And, oh, sorry, I’m Marinette! My friends, Alya and Nino, work here so when I realised I was in this part of town I kinda prayed it was one of them that would be here…” She took in a sharp breath, “I’m so sorry to harass you. And now I’m rambling ahahaha…” Marinette avoided eye contact. Damn her luck. Of course it wouldn’t be Nino, it just had to be his gorgeous friend who always used the love heart stencil for her cappuccinos and had a smile brighter than sunshine. Now he must be absolutely terrified by this deranged mess that has burst into his store late at night demanding electricity. Fantastic.

Adrien blinked. “Oh, yeah. I recognise you. Alya’s roommate, yeah?” His heart ached when he saw how nervous she looked. She must have had some night, judging from her soaked clothes and generally dishevelled aura. He wracked his brain, damn, what was her usual order again? All he could remember was how cute she was when she blushed and how pretty her clothes always were, “can I get you anything to drink?” He finally offered, as he plugged in her phone charger.

She smiled and his chest fluttered, “if it’s no trouble, coffee would be fantastic. Just a latte please,” Marinette paused, her mind drawing towards the exhausted little kwami clutching to her coat, “actually…sorry to be even more of a pest, but is there any chance you have any cookies or whatever that are going to waste tonight? It’s just…my blood sugar is feeling quite low...” She bit her lip. She hated barging in here demanding coffee and treats, but Tikki needed her. She always loved when Alya came home baring slightly stale baked goods that she “rescued” from their fate of being binned.

“Ah, I’m really sorry, but I’ve already chucked out the wastage from tonight,” Adrien frowned, “the next order of food won’t be in until tomorrow morning. The best I can do is add some syrup to your latte?”

Dammit. Marinette forced a grateful smile, “caramel would be great, thanks.”

“I’ll just move this mop out your way and I’ll get that to you immediately,” Adrien winked as he grabbed the bucket and made his way through the back door.

Marinette clenched her teeth. She had no other option. With a wince, she tip toed towards the bar and eyed the bin full of stale cakes and pastries. “You owe me,” she hissed under her breath as she leaned over and rummaged through the bin before fishing out a cookie and pocketed it. Tikki’s tiny face wrinkled at the sad state of the cookie but a glare from Marinette silenced any upcoming protests.

She heard the back door swing open as Adrien re-entered the room. In an effort to avoid greeting him with the sight of her half in the bin, Marinette bolted upwards and banged her head right into a light bulb. Marinette grimaced and cursed the cool modern aesthetic of low hanging lights, at least its trendy to have ambient lighting and she didn’t burn herself.

“Ya—OWCH!” She audibly whimpered upon impact, earning a flustered gasp from Adrien as he rushed over to inspect her injury.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” He shakily enquired. Despite his racing mind, he briefly considered how fired he would be if he let a customer in after closing and she was then injured. But his concern overwhelmed his more practical, albeit slightly selfish, worries. Hey, he could not afford to be out a job. He gently clasped her face to inspect the injury. Marinette’s already embarrassment and shock-induced flushed face reddened even more at the contact. The blonde’s slightly calloused fingers brushed some errant strands away from her throbbing forehead. Although he was currently busying himself with concern, he couldn’t help but notice how hot her soft, porcelain skin felt under his touch. Suddenly, both of them were very, very, aware of their proximity to each other. The inexplicable tension was more than palpable. They should’ve laughed it off and awkwardly parted and left it at that. But for some reason that neither of them could yet divine, they made no effort to part ways. Marinette pressed harder against the counter top and her white knuckles were only inches from Adrien’s coffee-stained apron, the light contact of his bare forearms burned against her damp shoulders. He was close enough to see the faint scattering of freckles on her upper cheeks. Although every sense in her begged her to look away, she couldn’t resist stealing a gaze at his vibrant eyes. In that moment, they reminded her not of gleaming emeralds, or wide sunny fields. No, her mind was drawn to the thought of a deep forest that span for miles. She was so fixated that she could almost smell the cedar.

Their shared reverie was broken by the crescendoing ring of Marinette’s newly revived phone. Adrien mustered a cough as an excuse to tear away.

Alya’s contact flashed demandingly on the screen. Marinette’s hands were still numb as she gripped the phone, bracing herself for an earful. What was that?

As expected: Alya had been freaking out _all_ night, worried _sick_ about her flight risk of a roommate. No calls! No text! And during an akuma attack! What was Alya to tell Marinette’s parents when they inevitably called to check in after seeing the news?

Marinette sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I-I know, Alya, I’m sorry. My phone died. Well, I was just…out. For a walk. To clear my head before I continued doing my assignment. Yes, I know, I’m really sorry,” she was genuinely. This was becoming an all too familiar conversation. It’s not like Marinette could truthfully explain her absences that always coincide with Akuma attacks. Lying was exhausting. These days she found herself too jaded to even bother with a decent excuse, never mind the elaborate subterfuges she would concoct in the early years of her superhero career.

Alya’s scolding tone made a complete switch when Marinette informed her that she was seeking refuge at Café D’Avril. There was a scuffle on the other line whilst Alya searched for her work schedule, “oh, well isn’t that interesting? It says here that Adrien, the super-cute, former model, happens to be there tonight.” Alya made no effort to mask her delighted tone. Ever since Alya and Nino “adopted” Adrien as their clueless coworker and friend, the couple have made it their personal mission to arrange a group hangout (slash potential double date) with Adrien and Marinette.

And whilst Adrien had never outright objected to the idea, Marinette, however, condemned it. Brandishing the idea as desperate, she could totally get a date if she wanted to! Regardless, she was way too busy with her double lives to even think about investing that kind of energy. Again.

After apologising, again, Marinette told her meddling friend that she would be home safely soon enough, and no, she and Adrien would not name their first child Alya. She placed the phone face down on the table and turned to the sheepish barista, who had suddenly became very invested in the floor.

“Alya says hi,” Marinette finally offered.

This evoked a slight chuckle from Adrien as he raised his sheepish gaze, “Yeah, I bet she does. I’ll get your coffee now, if your head is alright?”

Between their strange moment, and Alya’s lecture, Marinette had completely forgotten about her injured forehead. Her fingers instinctively grazed over the small red lump that was forming, “I’ve survived worse.” She shrugged. Adrien clucked amusedly at her aloof response whilst he steamed the milk for her latte. Marinette received an inexplicable wicked pleasure from the thought that he had no idea of the true extent of her words. She watched as he made his swift movements behind the bar. From the speed and the way that he barely even looked when pressing a switch or turning a dial, she could tell that this was all an engrained routine for him.

She began to feel more at ease in this familiar location, despite the sweet dizziness that was a consequence of Adrien’s presence and her swelling forehead. Even though the warm lighting could be a bit of a safety hazard, the gentle glow that permeated the room added to the carefully curated inviting atmosphere. She sank into the earthy smell of ground coffee and the soothing sounds from the radio. What a lovely place to work, she wondered, why did Alya complain so much. Then again, she might not appreciate it so much if she returned every day with aching feet and stale coffee marked hands and tenacious milk stains.

Adrien placed her latte on the table and without thinking, offered an instinctive, “hope you enjoy.” He cringed at the accidental slip of his patented customer service voice but Marinette just giggled as she brought the warm drink to her lips. She took a sip then flashed him a grateful smile. He found himself beginning to get lost in the creases of her supple cheeks when the gentle tunes were sharply interrupted by an urgent voice.

  
“… _regarding tonight’s Akuma Attack, the police have recommended that every citizen in the affected area avoid venturing outside unless absolutely necessary whilst they continue to conduct their inspection. From initial reports, it appears that Ladybug once again detained the threat and has repaired all damages. However, please remain in doors until the threat is officially lifted. We here at the station would, once again, like to thank Ladybug for her ongoing commitment to protecting our city_ …”

 

Adrien blinked, unaware of Marinette’s discomfort, “Wow, there was another Akuma Attack? So soon after the last one, jeez,” he shook his head and tightened the grip on his own cup, “I’m so grateful, god...can you imagine if we didn’t have Ladybug saving us?”

In that moment, an insidious self doubt of Marinette’s couldn’t be suppressed. She gave into her inner turmoil and voiced one of her greatest fears, “Yeah, but don’t you ever think that maybe without Ladybug there’d be no Hawkmoth? I mean, she’s been doing this for four years now and ...nothing’s changed. That horrible man still manipulates vulnerable people into antagonising the city on a weekly basis, and all she does is deal with the immediate threat and then disappears…some hero.” She didn’t mean to be so cutting, both her and Adrien were stunned from her protest. Regret surged in Marinette, she can’t risk saying these things to people. But it wasn’t an original criticism. She was still stung from the time she read an article in Le Monde debasing her alter ego. They were right though; what lasting good did Ladybug actually do? Master Fu told her that Hawkmoth was using the Akumas in a nefarious bid to steal her miraculous, so surely, if it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t be hurting anyone.

Adrien interrupted her despair spiral with a startled breath, “Wow, that’s some… hard feelings. I’m sorry you feel that way, I understand where you’re coming from though. But, I just can’t help but admire her y’know? I idolised her so much when I was younger. ‘Cause I grew up homeschooled and pretty lonely I couldn’t help but dream of that kind of freedom, and she always seemed so capable and strong.” He shrugged with an awkward smile, still slightly reeling from Marinette’s minor outburst.

Marinette wouldn’t consider the crushing responsibility of being the soul saviour of Paris— whilst going through puberty— to be particularly envious or ‘freeing’. But the wistful admiration in Adrien’s eyes, uninhibited by his front of an aloof voice on the subject, melted her resentment, just a little bit.

She smiled, “Yeah, I guess she is kinda something.”

With a glance at the time, Adrien got back to cleansing the store of day’s business. Marinette offered to help out, after all it was the least she could do, but Adrien refused. Besides, after the city’s warning to remain indoors, he was in no rush. They both easily slipped into idle conversation, comparing basic tidbits of information. Marinette was a first year design student, she lived in an apartment with her childhood best friend, on weekends she worked in her parents’ bakery, she had big dreams for her future in the fashion industry. Adrien worked full time at the café, he was a former model(!), his relationship with his father was ‘complicated’, he wants to study physics at university next year if he can muster up the funds, he was homeschooled, he’s a talented pianist.

Marinette was becoming addicted to drawing out more and more information from him, with every new fact, the mental picture she had of him became clearer and clearer. Adrien couldn’t believe his luck— how had he seen this girl on a weekly basis over the past months and never stopped to appreciate how magnetic she was?

The cozy atmosphere was so easy and comforting to slip into, the looming thought of Marinette’s unfinished assignment melted into the back of her mind. Besides, Adrien made very evident his discomfort about her leaving and ignoring the police’s warning. It’s not like she could tell him that the warning was just a routine formality the police pointlessly exercised to portray a semblance of control. Despite the overwhelming evidence, the authorities just didn’t have faith in Ladybug’s claim that her miraculous ‘magically’ fixed all of the resulting damages from an Akuma Attack. Marinette forced herself to quit staring at Adrien as he seamlessly navigated around the café. She gritted her teeth as she pushed stirring thoughts of golden forearms out of her mind and focused on googling the nearby metro timetable.

After some more time and easy conversation, the radio announced that the area was once again declared safe. Marinette mustered an experimental smile directed towards Adrien. She wanted desperately not to leave, to stay in this haven where deadlines and superhero responsibilities didn’t exist, where she was just some girl talking to some boy. He returned a regretful smile as he shrugged, feigning nonchalance. Neither of them were eager to move. But it was late, reality surged outside the glass doors.

Raindrops continued to assault the ground; this pained Marinette even more as she glanced to her damp coat that clung lifelessly to the radiator. Just as she readied herself to say goodbye, Adrien blurted out, “Uh, how are you getting home?” Admittedly it was rather a feeble attempt at prolonging their contact. However, it was late, and raining. The city wasn’t the safest place to be wandering alone, especially on a night like this.

“I looked at the metro timetables, but they’re not very convenient at this time. So I figured I’d just walk.” She’d walked home from here before, with Alya, a few times. It wasn’t particularly far, but the dull throbbing in her ankle protested even the shortest of distances.

“Nope,” Adrien shook his head, “In this weather? At this time? No way.” She raised an eyebrow at his resolve. Undeterred, he continued, “I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Plus, Alya would for sure kick my ass. I’ll give you a ride.”

“A ride..?”

X

Marinette loved fairytales growing up. She adored how fantastical and romantic they were. She dreamed of magic, adventure, beautiful dresses, and, well, a prince or two. But also dragons. Thoughts of a pretty girl in an equally pretty dress demurely clinging to a handsome prince as they rode horseback to happiness floated through her mind. Call her a hopeless romantic, or maybe just hopeless and romantic, but she felt as though she were living that fantasy right now, as she and Adrien weaved through the glowing streets.

However, a motorcycle was no horse. And her hair couldn’t exactly flow in the wind as Adrien insisted she wore his helmet. And there was no sunset in the distance, just dark cloudy skies and raindrops attacking her flushed cheeks. But nevertheless, her arms were laced around Adrien’s torso. As a result of fear and something else she’d rather not admit, her increasingly tight grip allowed her to feel the vague outline of his toned stomach. She bit her lip and tried to bring back her focus to fairytales, and maintaining her balance.

Adrien couldn’t contain his excitement. He felt positively electric. Every time he made a turn that was a little too sharp, he felt Marinette’s grip tighten ever so slightly. The pressure from her shoulder on his back burned. Not from discomfort, but from the realisation of her proximity. That she was trusting him, that she felt safe enough to allow him to do this. The initial awkwardness of oh, okay, I’ll just, yknow, hold on to you, soon evaporated. Now he was relishing in her nervous laughter and occasional squeals.

Swinging from building to building? Second nature to Marinette. Regular battles with super-powered villains? She did that all before breakfast. This, however, was terrifying. She was more than acutely aware of their speed. Her ex-boyfriend rode a motorcycle, but her parents absolutely refused to let Marinette anywhere near it. If her mum knew what she was doing right now, she’d whoop her ass.

Apparently in her younger years, Marinette’s mother, Sabine, had a raging affinity for motorcycles. And racing. And the adrenaline rush that could only come from the rage of an engine under her control. But her short affair with riding was brought to an abrupt end, when she suffered an injury from a stunt gone wrong. Ever since, she swore off of riding, and ensured Marinette did the same.

But surely Sabine would understand, that Marinette’s options were limited. And that Adrien smelt sweetly of coffee grinds and musk. Besides, the ride was over soon enough. Before she even clocked that this was her street, Adrien had slowed to a stop outside her apartment building.

Marinette pried the helmet from her scalp, and took a bleary step from the bike. Their fingertips brushed as she handed him the helmet. They finally said their goodbyes and Marinette turned to her door.

With a wordless smile, Adrien drove out of view. The noise from the engine faded with him, but the warmth from his contact stayed with her much longer. Sighing, she unlocked the door and hobbled up the stairs to her apartment. She paused as she reached her and Alya’s door. Taking a breath, she opened it as silently as possible as to not prompt another lecture. All the lights were off, so she safely tiptoed to her room and sat in front of the monitor. Forcing all the excitement from the evening out of her mind using a breathing technique that Master Fu had taught her, she averted her attention to her still unfinished assignment.

Just as she found herself making progress, her phone flickered to life with a text from that damn blonde.

“ **Home safe. Was nice talking to you, feel free to stop by the café anytime :)** ”

Oh. Marinette was a goner.

X

If you’d asked Gabriel Agreste if his life could get any worse, you would receive a firm, unreadable frown accompanied by an even firmer “no”.

He had an empire. He had a certainly enviable fortune. He had immense power at his fingertips, both societal and, well, miraculous. He was arguably the most influential fashion designer in Europe. Despite all this, he was so far detached from what he truly wanted. What good was an immense mansion if it were only occupied by one, lone, man.

First his wife, deceased. Then his ‘friends’, abandoned him in his grief. Now his only son, Adrien, absconded. Further to his isolation was the complete humiliation from years of failure in his attempt to snatch a pair of earrings from a teenager. She could never know their true worth, their true power. She couldn’t be any older than Adrien, and yet she had bested every attempt he made. No matter how many manipulated champions he unleashed and no matter how frequently, he was constantly thwarted. He ruminated on the absurdity of the whole situation. Really, it was beyond time to change tactics. But he was tired. And desperate. He vowed to his wife that he would never even dream of relenting until she was in his arms again, no matter the cost. But what else could he do?

Images from Adrien’s instagram page flickered in the reflection of Gabriel’s glasses as he focused his gaze on the screen. Following his departure from the estate, and his resignation from his modelling career, Adrien had deleted all the pre-approved publicity photos and replaced them with mindless absurdities. Images of coffees, stray cats, his crudely decorated new residence, sunsets, and young people that Gabriel did not recognise. Each pixel stabbed his already pulverised heart. In a rare instance, Gabriel allowed himself to slink out of his stoic, collected exterior and dropped his face into his hands. In the complete darkness of the office, only his silver hair and pale distressed face were starkly illuminated by the light emanating from the screen.

He turned from his podium to face the large, expertly crafted portrait of his late wife. He remembered commissioning it for her birthday, the last one she shared with the world. He’d since advanced its purpose. Gently tracing his slender fingers along the right shapes, a resounding click signified the frame’s separation from the wall. With bated breath and a final glance to the pain strokes of his wife’s eyes, he twisted the code for the safe that remained behind the portrait. He eyed the contents briefly before his chest seized at the absence of one particular item.

The echo from the door being slammed shut reverberated deeply through the empty halls. He clenched his teeth and sighed, hand gripping his small ornate butterfly brooch. The noise startled the small magical creature that floated beside him, it dared to speak, “Master…what is-”

Unhindered by the lenses covering them, pure malice flickered in the man’s icy blue eyes, causing the butterfly creature to recoil in fear. A sharp growl escaped from his pursed lips.

“Adrien…”


	2. Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Marinette is our favourite messy bitch

Adrien stared blankly at the dim ceiling above him. The paint had began to peel long before he took refuge beneath it. Since his arrival, damp from the upstairs apartment had stained the corner above his bedroom door. Although he grimaced at the grimy mark, he was not offended by its presence. His humble space, and all its failings, bore absolutely no resemblance to the glacial Agreste mansion. He was grateful for it. The walls may need some tending to, but they were pillars of the past regardless. They’d experienced the eccentricities of housing humans, and suffered from it. They’d been bumped, scraped, stripped, decorated, bleached. They’d embraced the lives of so many. And now, his. 

Though, he sometimes struggled to maintain this perspective. Especially in times like this where he was losing himself in the comforting stream of the shower, only to suddenly be assaulted by icy droplets. Naturally, the boiler had relented once again, exhausted from a day of demands, cutting him off from his indulgence. So there he lay, cold wet strands slowly soaking his pillow.

He thumbed around for his phone, hopeful anticipation bubbling inside him. To his dismay, Marinette had not replied to his text. Maybe she was just busy, as he’d come to realise was the norm for that tornado of a girl. But an insidious voice poisoned his mood. Maybe she wasn’t interested in the conversation, maybe she wasn’t interested in him. It had only been two weeks since she stumbled into his mind, but he was increasingly drawn to her. An admission that frightened and electrified him. He couldn’t tell if her visits to the café had increased in frequency or not. But each time he spotted her oil slick hair appear in front of him, his heart seized up. Just a little bit. 

He knew these feelings were far too intense and irrational for what little basis they bore. Nino had mocked Adrien’s infatuation, calling him “such a girl”. But he didn’t care. There was something he couldn’t quite place, not so much as a feeling as it was a subtle premonition. It was too ridiculous to even entertain, let alone voice. But it grew in his gut. He knew of only one way to feed it for now. 

Bare feet touching hardwood flooring, he scuffled around for his beloved black notebook and pattered towards the living room window. Heaving the frame upwards, he slid through the gap and deposited himself on the cool metal of his building’s fire escape platform. The view was underwhelming for most; surrounded by concrete and darkened windows. But still, Adrien adored his spot of tranquility. He was alone, yet surrounded. Eight floors up, his bare feet dangled in the wind. Scents of exhaust, and the faded echoes of far away conversations mingled in the air around him. From this vantage point, he felt one with the erratic lives around him. He breathed their air, he heard their laughter, he winced at their sirens. It all drifted up towards him.

With a childhood like Adrien’s, you’d be maddened by boredom if you didn’t take it upon yourself to seek entertainment. For him, he had limitless funds and access to whatever material objects he pleased. Devouring all forms of media— be it video games, books, movies— he’d cultivated a certain fondness for the written art. His natural tongue was inscribed in ink. This way he could finally release all his uncensored and unripened musings, longings, aches. 

He did not write with no intended audience. No. Shortly after his mother’s disappearance, he’d dictated pages of childish ramblings addressed to Mrs. Agreste. He had thought to bundle them up and hand them to Nathalie, his father’s long-serving assistant. She’d frowned at his desperation. Explaining that with no known address, his letters could not be delivered. Young Adrien’s lip quivered. It was then that he first began to consider that his mother might not return. Overcome by empathy, Nathalie suggested that Adrien continue to write to her, so that when they were reunited, she’d be up to date with all he’d lived in her absence. 

With this spark, Adrien wrote with an unbridled ferocity. Sparing no details at first, he dictated even the most mundane of occurrences. Soon enough, he had to switch from loose papers and began a series of notebooks. Over the years, his efforts and hope dwindled. Nowadays, he did not purposely begin every passage dedicated to his mother, but they were intended to her nonetheless.

In this entry, he allowed himself to pour out his feelings and wonderings regarding Marinette onto the pages. After scribbling wistfully in an effort to make sense of his own thoughts, he finally felt at ease, and slipped into an unburdened slumber.

That was, until, the streaming light from his window flooded his eyes causing Adrien to groan and smother himself with a pillow. Through his dazed mind, a dulled knocking furthered his irritation, coaxing him further into consciousness. The knocking grew louder and sharper as Adrien attempted to ignore it. 

A quick glance to his phone informed him that it was 9am. Whoever annoyingly intruded on his sleep saved him from being late to work. In his dreamlike state last night, he must’ve forgotten to set an alarm. Still, he felt little gratitude to whoever was disturbing him. 

The blonde yawned as he groggily slipped out from the sheets and dragged his lethargic body to the door. 

“Alright alright, I’m coming!” He exclaimed as a new wave of irritation took over him. After years of strict early morning workouts and rigorous schedules had come to an end, Adrien had allowed himself to become accustomed to sleeping however long he pleased, however long his perpetually fatigued body needed. 

As he opened the door, he was greeted by the foreboding sight of his father scowling down at him. Despite Adrien’s own enviable height, Gabriel’s slender physique still loomed a good few inches above him, only adding to the chilling aura of intimidation the man maintained.

Adrien’s attention was briefly drawn to the growing pain in his fingers, only then did he notice his increasing grip on the door. He swallowed, “Father…what are y-”

“You failed to attend our last two scheduled meetings and I was informed that you also have not returned any of Nathalie’s calls or emails, so, as you are so childishly ignoring all responsibilities, you left me with no choice but to take it upon myself to visit your…” Adrien winced, he following his father’s disapproving eyes as they scrutinised his surroundings, “…new residence.”

A tense moment of silence pervaded the air between the two Agrestes. It wasn’t meant to happen like this, Adrien had it all planned out. He’d invite his father round to see how well Adrien had been coping and how successful his new life turned out to be. His apartment would be spotless and well decorated. There would be no creaking floorboards, dirty dish piles, barren cupboards, exposed lightbulbs…at least his laundry hamper wasn’t overflowing for once. Adrien’s mind raced, mentally checking each inch of his apartment for faults, when his mind drifted to his own appearance. 

Fuck. Adrien was standing in his boxers. Hair unbrushed and matted from the night before, wrinkly t-shirt permanently coffee-stained. He hadn’t even shaved, or washed his face, or brushed his teeth. Embarrassment welled painfully within him until he felt a physical ache from the knot of anxiety in his stomach. This wasn’t how it was meant to be…

“Well, you should’ve called ahead, I need to get ready. For work. So.. sorry to waste your trip.” Adrien slowly tried to close the door in an effort to conceal more of his background, but Gabriel’s brows furrowed and his piercing eyes were locked into Adrien’s movements, not matter how surreptitious. “I’ll email Nathalie and arrange a time for me to visit you. At the house.”

He could’ve sworn that he saw a brief flash of sadness across Gabriel’s chiselled features, it caused a pang of guilt. But then, it was quickly over as Gabriel took a demanding step forward, creating an uncomfortable proximity between them, “Despite your best efforts, I am still your father and legal guardian. Is it not enough that I indulge your ludicrous fantasy of ‘making your own way’? This tiresome delusion has gone on long enough. Let me in Adrien.”

“No.” The word left his mouth softly, but the impact of them left Adrien feeling winded. He’d never denied his father’s demands. He hadn’t rebelled since his feeble attempt to attend public school all those years ago. But an inexplicable surge of anger bubbled as he listened to Gabriel mock him so callously. Before he could lose his momentum and fall victim to his fear, Adrien continued, hoping that Gabriel wouldn’t notice the quiver in his voice, “I’m sorry father but I will be late for work, so we’ll have to do this another time.”

Without even pausing to gauge his father’s reaction, Adrien pulled the door shut and then exhaled deeply as he pressed his back to the frame. His heartbeat reverberated in his ears as he waited until he could hear Gabriel’s terse footsteps fade into the distance. Only once he was certain that it was safe, he allowed himself to slump into a ball on the floor, his breath still trembling from the confrontation. Adrien sniffled and cursed himself for being so pathetic, six months away from home and his father’s hold on him hadn’t weakened. A few tense words and a meagre rebellion was all it took to reduce him to a bundle of nerves. He was so weak, so sheltered. That’s why he was still failing to excel on his own. He refused to allow the tears to wet his cheeks, that would only further his own mortification. 

 

X

With amused curiosity, Alya watched her friend fuss over the piles of fabric before her. Their friendship had left Alya well versed in the subtle meanings behind Marinette’s mannerisms. Here she was frantic, not impassioned. Which meant that this project was brought on by her desire to avoid what was really stirring her. Full of mirth, she texted her boyfriend describing the comical state of her roommate, no doubt a result of her budding friendship with Alya’s coworker. 

Before she could press send, her eyes widened at the notification that just appeared on her phone. 

“Oh my god, Mari, did you know that there was an Akuma Attack today?? And that I missed it! Again!” Alya groaned, dramatically kicking a pillow from the couch, “My readers rely on me to consistently supply exclusive footage and details, and yet I’ve missed the last two attacks? And to think that last one happened so close too the café…if only I were working that night I could’ve ducked out,” she sighed. 

Marinette let out a soft chuckle, “there’s no way that you would’ve been allowed to ditch work and run straight into danger.” Café D’Avril’s owners were Alya’s parents and they did exercise a healthy amount of nepotism, such as hiring Alya’s boyfriend, but even that was just too much. 

“Regardless, I need redemption scoop for the Ladyblog, do you think I could convince Ladybug to do another interview?” Alya questioned, mainly to herself, and therefore didn’t notice the panicked expression on Marinette’s face. How many interviews did Alya need? At this point, she almost knew as much as about being Ladybug as Marinette did herself.

“Maybe…if you’re able to find her again…” Marinette mumbled inconspicuously whilst adjusting the soft fabric under her sewing machine. But it didn’t matter, Alya had already channelled her focus into something else, leaving the conversation complete. 

Moments later she returned to the living room, which was also really the kitchen and dining room, with a restrained grin. Marinette raised a curious eyebrow towards her friend when Alya sat herself at the table, lips pursed. 

“So…Nino is coming over for dinner tonight,” Alya finally announced. 

“Oh good, it’s your turn to cook anyways,” Marinette replied without removing her gaze from her work. 

Alya shifted uncomfortably, which was oddly out of character; normally, if Alya wanted to say something, she said it. Not the type to dance around topics or censor herself, she lacked societal tact almost to a fault sometimes. However, Marinette could sense that her friend was silently deliberating something. The curiosity caused her to set her sewing aside and face her friend. 

“Is something wrong?” Marinette finally asked after an awkward silence descended upon the two girls. 

“It’s just…I really don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but,” Alya bit her lip, “Nino was going to cook for me tonight. Kind of like a low budget date ‘cause it’s a week ‘till payday…so…” 

“Oh. Ohhhhh, say no more.” Marinette grinned reassuringly, “I’ll give you two lovebirds some space.”

“You sure you don’t mind? You live here too, I don’t wanna kick you out of your own apartment ahaha...”

“Don’t be silly, it’s no problem. I’ll just eat at my parents’, the house is close to my yoga place anyways,” the lie slid from her tongue with habitual ease as she waved her hand dismissively.

Alya grinned widely before jumping onto Marinette, consequently making them both fall into a heap on the couch. They giggled as Alya tightened her embrace, “You’re the best, Mari.”

“Of course I am, now get off so I can get back to work,” Marinette laughed as she shrugged herself free from Alya’s hold. 

In response, Alya dramatically flung her hand over her face, “You wound me, all I have to give is love and yet you reject me so callously…” she punctuated her despair by feigning a sniffle. Marinette snorted derisively as she gently kicked Alya in the side, before resuming her place in front of the sewing machine. 

“When is this one due for? Two hours time?” Alya smirked, remaining on the floor.  
“Very funny, this isn’t even for school…I’ve just felt a bit creatively blocked so I wanted to work on some old designs that I never got around to.”

Before Alya could reply, Marinette’s phone buzzed on the table beside her, resulting in a nervous smile to grow on her face. Her pulse quickened at the sight of Adrien’s contact flashing on her screen. It was a simple greeting, but the reaction it evoked from Marinette made her cheeks redden from embarrassment. She can’t afford to indulge in this stupid crush. Not like he’d return her feelings anyway…what would a ray of sunshine like him see in a nervous wreck like her. Ever since he dropped her off on that night, any cool aloofness Marinette could muster have been mortifyingly replaced by childish stutters and anxious ramblings. She was a mess— well, in general— but especially around him. It was pitiful really. She hadn’t acted like that in years, not since she first developed feelings for her ex-boyfriend, Luka. 

“Oh for the love of…if that’s who I think it is, PLEASE don’t leave him hanging again. He’s sooooo dramatic at work,” Alya cupped her face with her tan hands and donned the most woeful expression she could before theatrically lowering her voice to mimic Adrien’s, “Each second I wait feels like an eternity…how can I go on with a weight like this clamping on my exhausted heart-“

Marinette cut Alya’s monologue short by tossing a pillow in her direction, “Shut up, this is purely platonic.”

Alya’s smirk grew as she waggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Riiiiiight, I bet you two are just the friendliest of friends.”

The frustration rose in Marinette. “I mean it Alya!” Both of the girls were taken aback by her sudden sharpness of tone. She let her head fall into her palms as she let out a sigh. 

“Hey,” Alya began softly as she moved to kneel beside Marinette, placing her hand comfortingly on her forearm, “Y’know I’m only teasing.”

Marinette sniffed quietly feeling a pang of guilt. She just could not control her emotions these days. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap it’s just…” Marinette squeezed her eyes shut. If she spoke these words then there would be no taking back, her confession would make her feelings real, tangible. But, carrying so many secrets was exhausting, Marinette had to be careful or she’d end up lying to herself. 

“It’s okay, Mari, talk to me.” 

Marinette sighed, there was a time where she’d tell Alya everything —well everything non-ladybug-related— but as of late, lying and hiding were beginning to become second nature. She looked Alya in the eyes, they were so filled with concern and compassion. Marinette knew if there was one person she could always trust, it’s Alya. 

“Okay. I-well, I like him. Really like him, like more than I should for the short length of time we’ve been talking, but…I can’t act on it. It’s just not an option, and I don’t want to mess him around, but then I don’t want to assume that he returns my feelings, and if he doesn’t—which I’m sure is the case— then I’ll seem like a jerk for ignoring him out of the blue, but-”

“Woah woah, girl, breathe,” Alya interjected as Marinette began spiralling, “Let’s break it down. First of all, if you’re feeling it, and he’s down, then why can’t y’all be a thing?”

Marinette inhaled. How could she even begin to explain the layers of that answer. Dating Luka taught Marinette many things, mainly, superheroes can’t date. Hiding her identity, lying about her inexplicable absences…it was all too much. Too much guilt, sneaking around, pretending to be someone she’s not… and then it all comes crashing down. She can’t do that to anyone again, especially not Adrien. She exhaled. 

“It’s just… At this point in my life there’s too much going on already. This whole university thing,” Marinette punctuated her words with vague hand gestures, “It’s too hard, I feel like all I do is work to last minute deadlines. I’m a mess, Alya.” She finally confessed, offering only the most superficial of layers. 

Alya paused, seeing to take a moment to contemplate on this, before nodding. “I get that, you gotta take care of yourself, Mari. But, just because you can’t be in a relationship doesn’t mean that you can’t be friends.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. But Alya continued, “I’m serious. Adrien’s going through some shit, he may appear sunny on the outside but the boy is a disaster behind that exterior. He’s upped his whole life to make on his own, he must be so lonely. I think…he could really use all the friends that he can get. Especially one as amazing as you, Mari.”Alya said sincerely as she wrapped her arms around her. 

Marinette leaned into the embrace, joy welling inside her. It was amazing how Alya always knew what to say. That girl would be an amazing journalist one day. 

“Right, I’m gonna go meet my study group. Me and Nino should be back here around 7, okay?” Alya announced as she collected her things.

Marinette hummed in response. It was only when Alya left the apartment, that the silence became apparent. It must be nice to have a study group. Or at least people on your course to hang out with, or ask questions…

A hint of trepidation churned throughout her as she lifted her phone and opened the conversation window between her and Adrien. Biting her lip, her fingers hovered tentatively over the screen. Could she manage to be just friends? Was that better than cutting him off? Could she hang out with him, talk with him, listen to him, whilst pretending her feelings didn’t exist? Marinette briefly considered that outcome before placing her phone face down. She had enough complications in her life. 

 

X

 

It’s strange how alone you can feel in room filled with people. It’s contradictory how frozen in time you can perceive yourself as, whilst sitting centre in such a fast paced, ever-changing environment. Adrien’s mind hasn’t stopped painfully rehashing his father’s earlier visit. He sat blankly at the unofficial staff table as his break dragged on. Most days, he was grateful for this small allotment of time to himself. But today, he craved distractions, he needed his wretched brain to be occupied in some way that wasn’t picking apart his every shortcoming and failure. He needed to hear a voice that wasn’t his father’s. Despite the rising distress within, Adrien’s face remained blank, his posture relaxed. He almost looked serene. The only thing that could so much as imply otherwise, was the almost inaudible tapping of his foot. A force of habit, after years of being moulded and scolded into a complacent little angel. All his true emotions leaked out in that subtle, rhythmic tapping. His father’s spontaneous visit. Tap. His amounting pile of bills. Tap. His uncertain future. Tap. His yet another unseen text to Marinette. Tap. What would he eat tonight? Tap. Would he ever be en-

“Bro, I swear to god quit it with the freaky expression.” Nino hissed as he placed a coffee on the table. Adrien took a few seconds to respond, if he was fazed by the intrusion, it didn’t show. That was, until Nino lightly punched his arm, “I mean it, you’re making it hard to work over here.”

He blink at his friend standing over him, his awareness of reality creeping back to him. 

“Seriously, are you okay? You’ve been weird all day.” Nino asked, his voice laced with concerned.

“Weird? How?” The best way to avoid revealing a truth is to dance around the question, with questions of your own, Adrien had this drilled into him. 

“I don’t know, man, it’s hard to pin point. Not so much how you’ve been acting, it’s more a vibe. You don’t seem very…umm…present. Yeah.” 

Adrien swallowed, without breaking eye contact. How had Nino noticed? No one has ever seen through him so effortlessly. It was a strange sensation for Adrien, to feel…seen.

“I’m fine, honest. Just thinkin’ over some stuff. Nothing big,” Adrien reassured with forced certainty. It didn’t even occur to him to share what he was going through. Not here, not when Adrien had a job to do. Plus, who could understand why a quick visit from his father had got him so caught up ad twisted? How could he even put it into words?

“What about you?” He cleared his throat, “Isn’t this the big date night?” 

An uninhibited smiled creeped on Nino’s face, exposing his dimples. He chuckled, “Yeah, that girl is gonna get wowed by my culinary skills.”

Adrien smiled as he watched Nino practically skip towards the bar. It warmed his heart to see his friends in such a good place, Alya and Nino’s relationship problems seemed to have settled as of late. For now, at least. 

With Nino gone, his mind slid back to his torment. How was he going to cope tonight. Just sitting alone, steeped in self-hatred?

Once Adrien’s break finished, he was able to mindlessly lose himself in the routine of the Café. There wasn’t a single pause, or moment of inactivity to allow his insidious thoughts to corrode his mind. It wasn’t until near the end of his shift when he slipped a surreptitious glance at his phone that he was struck back to reality. A notification from Marinette graced his screen. 

X

Growing up in a bakery left Marinette immune to the warm and encompassing scent of the business. But now she’d moved out. And whenever she returned home, she was greeted by the comforting wafts of vanilla. The sweet air circulated through her lungs and steadied her pulse. It wasn’t just a promise of freshly baked treats, it a reminder of safety, familiarity. Her father was too preoccupied by customers to notice Marinette’s entrance, so she decided to just slip up stairs without greeting him. The last thing she wanted right now was to get roped into a last minute shift. 

Upon opening the door to her living room, she caught sight of her mother staring pensively out the window. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, she was usually an introspective person. Marinette’s father always said that she had inherited her mother’s roaming mind. But she couldn’t help but detect a foreboding aura. Perhaps it was the way that her posture was rigid, yet slightly slumped. 

“Maman?” Marinette cleared her throat, alerting Sabine to her presence. Her mother twisted around swiftly to face the entrance where she stood. A smile grew on her startled face as she strode over to embrace her daughter. The familiar warmth melted away Marinette’s concern. 

“You’re just in time sweetie; dinner’s almost ready,” Sabine announced as she broke from the contact, busying herself with preparing the meal. Marinette took her usual seat at the counter, noticing cutlery and a drink waiting for her arrival. Another place across from her was set. 

“Is Papa working late?” She eyed the empty seat next to her. Sabine hummed in response. It wasn’t unusual for them to eat separately on busy days in the bakery.

Moments later, a steaming bowl of noodles with stir fried vegetables was placed in front of her. Marinette’s stomach groaned at the sight. She couldn’t recall the last time she had a proper meal, let alone a delicious home cooked one. Placing her phone face down beside her, Marinette lifted her fork to her mouth and softly moaned in delight at the taste. 

Sabine regarded her daughter with a slightly fraught smile, “Have you been eating well?” 

Marinette nodded as she continued to force more forkfuls into her mouth. “The best instant ramen student life has to offer,” She chuckled, but Sabine frowned in disapproval.

“I worry about you. You should come home more often, you know I love to cook for you. Even if you want to take some stuff with you, it’s no problem.”

Marinette waved her hand dismissively and returned her attention the food in front of her, pointedly ignoring her mother’s terse frown. It’s not like Marinette was destitute, she was just struggling to juggle all these new responsibilities just like every other student. Okay maybe a little bit more than the average student, but considering her not-so-average responsibility of protecting a whole frigging city, it was only to be expected. She just needs time to adjust and toughen up is all. 

Sensing her daughter’s avoidance Sabine elected to approach a different tactic. She turned around and grabbed her own plate before sitting across from Marinette, “So how’s Alya these days?” She innocently inquired.

Marinette hummed as she swallowed another mouthful, an ingrained practice after a childhood of lectures over speaking with her mouth full. “She’s pretty good. Her course is just perfect for her.”

“Ahh, no surprise there, she’s already such a passionate journalist.” Sabine added and Marinette tried to suppress an inexplicable sadness that welled at the thought of the contrast between Alya and her own university experiences. She would never be jealous of Alya’s success and happiness. Never. But it’s hard not to be reminded of her own inadequacy when she thinks of how well adjusted Alya is. 

The melancholy surrounding Marinette did not go unnoticed. Sabine spoke once again, “Has she made many new friends?”

“Oh, so many. She’s out with her study group right now actually,” Marinette tried to conceal the dejected tone in her voice as she stared at her plate, suddenly not feeling so hungry. 

“What about you? Do you still see those girls from your design class that you started hanging around with a couple of months ago?” 

“Uh…well,” Marinette hesitated. It’s not like she could just tell Sabine that maintaining a cheery act around her new friends exhausted her until she stopped seeing them after her millionth flakey Akuma attack cover up. All her friends from high school just perceived Mari as generally a frazzled girl with terrible organisational skills and time keeping. But to new people, they deemed Marinette’s avoidance as something they didn’t need in their lives. “We still keep in touch, everyone’s just so busy y’know.”

Her mother gave her a slow, understanding nod before silence descended upon them. Marinette pushed her food around the plate with her fork, mourning her sudden loss of appetite.

“You know dear… a lot of young people struggle at university. Especially in the first semester; there’s absolutely no shame in asking for help…” Sabine reached out to hold Marinette’s hand to further convey her sympathy. “I was thinking, maybe moving back home would alleviate some stress?”

Marinette recoiled, pulling her hand from her mother’s warm grasp. So they viewed Marinette as a failure. A pathetic child that couldn’t survive on her own. “You don’t need to be so paranoid! Yes it’s hard but it’s still new! Give me a chance will you…” her voice quivered slightly as her last syllables left her mouth. 

“Marinette,” Sabine sighed. “I just wanted to give you the option, we can see that you’re having a hard time. I’m worried is all. You look as pale as a ghost these days so I just thought-”

Enough. She didn’t have to sit here and have all her faults dissected in front of her, by her own mother as well! Marinette rose and shoved her phone into her bag, “I’m not a child, Maman! You’re just too overbearing. I’m not hungry anymore…say goodbye to papa for me.” Marinette slammed the door, stifling her mother’s protest.

Did no one have faith in her? As they even knew half of what she had to deal with! They didn’t even realise how much they needed her. How many sacrifices she had to make to keep them safe. If anyone deserves to drop the ball on certain responsibilities, it’s Marinette!

“Oh my god…What a pity party…” Marinette groaned to herself as she stormed out the bakery’s back door and slumped to a ball on the cool concrete. There was just so much anger churning her insides, she didn’t know what to do with herself. 

“Marinette!” A tiny voice snapped her attention. Tikki floated to her face, maintaining a foreboding eye contact. “Your mother was just worried about you, that was totally uncalled for!”

Ugh. Another lecture. Normally, Tikki’s well meaning attempts at steering Marinette in the right direction were appreciated. But the last thing Marinette needed right now was to be reminded of how much of a jerk she was nowadays. This was low, but it was the only way to silence her magical companion…

“Tikki…Transform me.”  
A blinding light swirled around her as she donned her spotted suit. Abusing her powers would only further anger Tikki, but at least she wouldn’t have to take the Metro to Master Fu’s.

 

X

“Come in, Ladybug.” The cool welcoming stopped Ladybug in her tracks as she slid through the back window of the nondescript massage parlour. Damnit. Master Fu’s ‘infinite wisdom’ sure was a pain in the ass sometimes. Sighing, she muttered a reluctant “spots off”, resulting in a pretty pissed off red blur whizzing away in a huff. 

Marinette tentatively opened the door to the main room, one that had become a second home to her over the years. There sat Master Fu, the only (human) being that knew of her burdensome secret. Tikki hovered in the corner with Master Fu’s turtle Kwami.

He sighed, legs crossed and facing away from Marinette. A looming lecture brewed like growing storm clouds in the tiny room. Before Marinette could begin her defence, her trusted mentor stood and played a familiar tune on the old gramophone. Once the calming notes reverberated off of the sparsely decorated walls, Master Fu turned to Marinette and began in a low voice. 

“I appreciate your punctually, though, you already know that I disapprove of your methods.”

Marinette frowned apologetically before taking a seat on the matted floor.

She heard a chuckle come from Master Fu as he shook his head and offered a cookie to Tikki, “And I know that I’m not the only one that would prefer you took the metro next time. Now put me some tea and we shall begin.”

Marinette leaned forward and cupped the warm pot before the sweet, fragrant liquid splashed into two china cups. She carefully passed one to him and took a sip of her own. Her dry throat was instantly soothed as the warmth trickled inside of her.

“So, let’s begin the exercises.”

X

“…and with one final deep exhale, envision your connection to your miraculous, once more, as a strong yet adaptable energy. Always changing, yet never destroyed.”

Marinette’s lower lip twitched as her breath escaped her body. Her agitation was evident to Master Fu before he even opened his eyes. With a thoughtful pause, he poured himself and his student another cup of tea.

“Your focus and sense of balance are not up to your usual standards today. Marinette, what is troubling you?”

Marinette’s vision blurred from the welling in her eyes. Why couldn’t she get over her stupid problems for just one hour. She’s meant to be Paris’ formidable hero and yet here she is, crying during training. Her throat hitched as her words failed to exit in a coherent manner. Master Fu reached over to clasp her hand in comfort. 

“Look at me, you and I are bound by a transcendental bond through our Kwamis. It is my solemn duty as The Guardian and your teacher to ensure your progress is not delayed. Ladybug is a figure of strength and bravery,”

Although his tone was caring, his words only further suffocated the distressed girl. 

“But as your friend, it is my honour to listen to your troubles, magical or otherwise. Now, enough with the snivelling. Tell me, little bug, what has caused you this distress?”

Marinette’s eyes met Master Fu’s. The sheer compassion that washed over his features melted her inhibitions about having her third meltdown in one day.

“It’s just…I’ve had a bad day,” She snivelled once more. “Everyone just has these expectations of me and I keep letting them down. I can’t live a normal life; I can’t study, I cant make friends, I cant help my family, I cant maintain a healthy diet, I cant ta— I just can’t. All the Ladybugs before must have been so…capable. And I’m not. I’m just a sad, lonely, pathetic mess that can’t do anything.”

“Marinette, enough of that. You know that you wouldn’t have been chosen if you weren’t capable enough to hold these responsibilities. Listen to me, growing up and pursuing education is tiresome enough with your added pressures. This will not become easier, but you, my dear, will grow stronger.” 

“It is also important for you to remember that whilst you will always have my support and that of your Kwami’s, you were never meant to do this on your own. The Labybug miraculous was always designed to be in a perfect harmony with the Chat Noir miraculous. Your struggling is a result of my negligence, if I had been more mindful then you would have a partner to rely on.”

Master Fu’s head fell in shame. 

“This ongoing struggle shows no end on the horizon anytime soon, but you cannot put your life on hold for this, Marinette. It will be difficult, but you must persevere and maintain a balance. Let people in, don’t get lost in your own perspective, don’t let this old man be your only confidant.”

Once Marinette closed the parlours door behind her, Master Fu’s heavy words weighed on her mind. She paused before heading towards the metro. Maybe Adrien wasn’t the only one who could use a friend. Biting her bottom lip, she pulled out her phone and opened the conversation between them both. 

[Hey :)  
Soooo I know this isn’t exactly a wild idea for a Friday night, but I’m way behind on laundry so I was gonna head to the laundrettes. Wanna come with?]

Her finger hovered over the send button before she finally mustered the strength to press it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! so sorry this was so late, I had so many ideas and more scenes planned but writer's block is a bitch yknow. Next chapter won't be so ~angsty~ I swear. As always I love to hear from you guys! Thanks for reading


	3. Potential

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which these kids are painfully awkward, and actual plot stuff happens, enjoy!

Adrien was blessed. Well and truly blessed. One minute he’s considering spending his whole evening at work just to remain occupied, the next he’s going to hang out with _Marinette_. He couldn’t remember that last time he’d felt so elated over, well, anything. Using his socks as ice skates, he slid with joy through his apartment and scooped up his laundry basket into a tight embrace.

There was only one problem: he had no dirty laundry. In fact, he’d never had to use a laundromat as his building was already equipped with washing machines. He stared with distress at the despairingly empty basket. He cursed every clean item of clothing with a loud groan before collapsing onto his bed. He had to think, think of anything. He couldn’t just wash all his clean ironed clothes again. But what if he told Marinette that he didn’t need to go, and she went without him? What if this was his only chance and he blew it by being so damn organised. He’d never consider his downfall to be at the hands of fresh linen.

He had no clothes to wash, and very little time to produce any. But, he knew someone who might…He frantically reached for his phone, “C’mon Nino, pick up…” he spoke to himself through gritted teeth.

Nino didn’t answer. So he called again. And again. And again until he heard a very irritated voice connect, “I swear to god Adrien you better be dying.”

Adrien gulped before explaining his predicament, “So basically, I need your clothes.”

There was a brief silence in the other line before Nino let out a deafening sigh, “Bro… I love you and support all your weird romantic efforts but do you NOT remember what tonight is?”Adrien had totally forgotten about Nino and Alya’s Big Date Night. How could he? It was all that Nino had spoken about today.

“Shit, Nino I didn’t think, I’m sorry. I’ll let you get on with your night, uhm, say sorry to Alya for me…” Well, back to square one, Adrien would just have to tell Marinette the truth. Unless he accidentally spilled something over a few shirts…

“No, look, dude it’s fine. Go to my apartment, Kim should be there just explain to him and he’ll give you my laundry.” Nino relented.

“Nino, you are the BEST, thank you! I could kiss you, man!” Adrien gleeful exclaimed whilst shooting up from his bed with a jolt of determination.

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t blow it with Marinette.” Nino chucked before promptly hanging up.

Adrien had thirty minutes to freshen up, stop by Nino’s, and meet Marinette downtown. The last thing he wanted to do was turn up late, so he bolted into the bathroom with a change of clothes and shoved toothpaste in his mouth whilst frantically tousling his hair. In a record speed, he grabbed his keys before sprinting out his door and to the street where his bike lay parked. He fumbled with his keys until he realised that he wouldn’t be able to ride with a basket.

With added frustration, he marched towards the nearest metro station. In this process he mentally lamented at his stupid slow limbs and human limitations. If only he had a fraction of Ladybug’s ability he could just climb up the side of a building and leap through the rooftops.

After racing through the busy tunnels of Paris, he arrived at Nino’s building. His roommate, Kim, had only spoken to Adrien a handful of times. Although he seemed friendly enough, the guy was _built_. And Adrien couldn’t wager on how well this strange request would be received. It was moments like this where his corrosive sense of inadequacy began to take hold of him. With each step he could hear a voice, his father’s demeaning voice, criticising him.

Kim was friendly, confident, athletic, lively. Adrien was, well…Adrien was a smudge of his former glorious, supermodel, self. His high-maintenance healthy glow had dulled to a pale indication of his poor diet. Although he maintained most of his lean physique, it wasn’t functional. Personal trainers had sculpted him into a show dog with defined muscles that were no match for a demanding 12 hour shift in the café. Even if Marinette looked past his appearance, Adrien very little going for him; a tangled mess of anxieties, failings, disappointments. He had no life. His only friends were Nino and Alya, and a string of acquaintances through work.

By the time Adrien had lugged his increasingly distressed body to Nino’s door, all his excitement had evaporated from the heat of his own self-deprecation. He paused outside the door, reconsidering his stupid plan, when it suddenly swung open, shaking Adrien from his fog.

“Adrien! I thought I could hear someone lurking out here. Stop being a creep and come on in,” Kim cheerfully beckoned before wrapping his thick arm around Adrien’s fragile shoulders and pulling him inside. “Nino told me about your weird laundry thing, I think his it’s in his room…” Kim pondered aloud whilst searching for said basket.

Adrien felt the need to defend his situation, but there wasn’t any evident judgement in Kim’s voice so he decided to just leave it as is. He took in the dishevelled appearance of the apartment. It was definitely ‘lived in’; weights and magazines were scattered across the floor, accented by a few empty pizza boxes and some CDs. Despite his close friendship with Nino, he rarely spent any time his apartment. Adrien’s place was closer to work and he had no roommates to disturb. Consequently, his apartment was always kind of empty.

“Well, I hope this is enough for ya,” Kim dropped the heaving basket into Adrien’s arms, “if not I’ll gladly donate some of mine.” Kim let out a booming laugh whilst helping Adrien to steady his grip.

How the hell was he supposed to lug this all of this to the laundromats? When was the last time Nino even did his laundry?! Adrien’s contemplative distress must have been evident as Kim grabbed his keys from the counter and picked up the basket with comparative ease.

“What laundrettes are you heading to? If it’s nearby I don’t mind giving you a hand,” Adrien caught the taller boy’s earnest expression. He was momentarily taken aback by this strange kindness. Kim hardly knew Adrien and had no reason to go out of his way to just to help him.

“That is so cool of you to offer, but really I don’t wanna cause you any hassle…” Adrien awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with his sweating palm.

“Don’t sweat it, I could use a walk and, no offence bro, but this basket is as light as a feather to me.”

After another few repetitions of Adrien thanking Kim and insisting he could manage, the two boys walked towards the laundrettes. Immediately Adrien’s dread of having to force himself into a conversation was depleted as Kim chattered happily about anything and everything. It didn’t take long for Adrien to almost feel at ease. The street lights began to flicker on as pink hues washed over the darkening sky. He took a deep breathe of the icy evening air before checking his phone; he had time.

“…And Max was like this total gaming nerd, Nino was kind of a ‘lone wolf’ as he liked to put it. And I, of course, was the life and soul of the class, so it was only natural that I managed to coax them into a friendship that’s lasted this long. I mean, it really is a heart-warming story isn’t it?” Kim boasted with a chuckle. Adrien laughed in agreement, imagining what it must’ve been like to have friends that actually chose to hang out with you. Friendships that formed naturally, rather than from the circumstances of having high society parents…

Their steps ceased as they reached the door of the laundrettes. Adrien immediately spied Marinette’s familiar silhouette hauling her own basket inside.

“Ah, looks like she still bet me…” Adrien breathed.

At that moment Kim spun round and stared at Adrien with an unprecedented spark of excitement, “Dude! You didn’t tell me that your dream girl was Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

A jolt embarrassment and realisation struck Adrien. Of course Kim knew Marinette if he went to the same high school as Nino and Alya. Now he really wished that he hadn’t gushed so much about her on the way here. Before he could form a semblance of damage control, Kim handed him the basket and firmly rested his hand on his shoulder.

“You’re one lucky guy, Adrien. Don’t mess it up.” And with that, Kim turned away with a departing wave and an encouraging wink, leaving Adrien alone.

Marinette was waiting for him, any amount of self-sabotaging thoughts couldn’t stop him now. She was there, and so was he. He tentatively made his way through the (thankfully) automatic doors and inhaled the fresh scent of detergent and fabric softener, before Marinette greeted him with a wave.

She raised her eyebrows at the heaving basket that he deposited beside her, “Wow, that’s quite a load you’ve got there,” she remarked before her face blushed a violent red and she covered her mouth. “I-I mean that’s a lot of laundry! A _load_ of laundry! Oh my god I’m suchanidiot…”

Despite being taken aback by all of what just happened, Adrien couldn’t help but notice how adorable Marinette was when she was flustered. He couldn’t help but laugh in response.  
Marinette tensed up, scared that he was laughing at her, but it wasn’t long till giggles of her own started spilling from her lips.

“Let’s just pretend that I didn’t just say that, okay?” She offered with a nervous chuckle.

He could only reply with an amused smile as he began sorting through the laundry, trying to ignore the fact that he was rifling through someone else’s dirty clothes.

Marinette tried to sway her attention away from the absurdity of the situation she had created for herself by bundling her whites together and tossing them into the machine. She’d never been more grateful for her mother’s insistence that she absolutely never, under no circumstances, machine wash her underwear.

Adrien let out a gentle cough as he began sorting his own clothes, drawing her attention upwards to his features. Despite her familiarity with Adrien’s modelling portfolio (now saved as a folder on her phone, for artistic inspiration, of course) the intimate details came to life in a different way under the cheap fluorescent lighting. Her eyes mentally traced the contours of his defined jaw line, speckled with a stubble threatening to surface. Errant strands of his gilded hair were illuminated in a not-so-flattering way, and yet he still appeared as though every flaw was crafted with deliberate intention.

“So, how was yoga?” His shaking voice abruptly cut her from her daze.

Oh no. She’d been staring. “Yoga?” Marinette spoke mostly to herself, “It was good! Y’know…relaxing. Good.” Adrien nodded slowly at her response. It quickly dawned on her that she had to say something, anything. “How was work?” She finally stammered as she promptly slammed the lid on the washer.

“Work was…fine. I mean you know how it is, very busy.” Adrien inhaled a short breath, wracking his brain, “Nino was super excited all day about tonight, though.”

Thank god, something to work with. Nino and Alya. She can talk about Nino and Alya. “Ohhhh, I bet he was. I’m so glad to see them in such a good place now,” Marinette smiled, assuming Adrien would be aware of their recent rough patch.

“Yes! I’m so pleased for them, and if not for their own happiness, then for my own peace of mind. All that bickering drove me crazy! Every day I would come into work not knowing what mood they’d be in…” He recalled with a groan.

“Oh god, I know what you mean,” Marinette sighed, before her eyes caught sight of Adrien freezing as he pulled something out of his basket and audibly choked.

Was that…a bra? Marinette gulped, trying to avert her eyes. Well, it’s not a crime, they’re barely even friends. So what if he has a girlfriend or, whatever? That’s allowed. She bit back the lump in her throat. Adrien immediately dropped the lace garment as if it were on fire. Panic building in his eyes as he tried to stammer a semblance of an excuse. His face was drained of colour, with the exception of his aggressively flushed cheeks.

“It’s okay!” Marinette forced a smile, “It’s nothing, really.” She asserted, praying for an Akuma to get her out of this disaster. Of course he wouldn’t wait around for ages for her to make up her damn mind. He didn’t even know their was anything to wait for! This was all in her head.

“No, you don’t understand, it’s-it’s not mine!” He stammered, voice shaking.

“I mean, I didn’t think it was…” Marinette laughed nervously, desperately trying to ease the painful awkwardness.

“No, of course not! Oh god…I meant…” Adrien paused, as if considering his next words caused him great distress, “It’s Alya’s. I think. I mean, I sure hope it is.” He sucked in his cheeks, immediately regretting his phrasing.

There was a very palpable silence hanging between them as Marinette’s mouth hung open so far her jaw almost ached. All the previous feelings of disappointment and heartache were now completely flooded by the sheer shock of what she just heard. Surely he didn’t mean it like that. Surely. Alya!? Alya, her best friend, who is in a very committed and long-term relationship with someone who is _meant_ to be Adrien’s best friend.

Anger started to bubble inside of her, replacing her confusion, “You…what would you be doing with Alya’s underwear?” Her brows furrowed.

“I- wait, no, it’s not what you think-”

“After everything Nino’s done for you, god. No way would Alya ever… I mean I know things haven’t been easy but she loves him…” Marinette snapped, causing Adrien to wince.

“No! No, no, no, it’s not like that.” He gripped the basket before yanking out a very familiar blue t-shirt, “This is _Nino's_  laundry, all of it! Look, I swear.” His desperate eyes met Marinette’s, wide and pleading.

Her head was inundated with conflicting emotion. After a tense pause, she spoke slowly, still trying to make sense of it, “Nino’s…Why do you have Nino’s clothes?”

A strangled breath escaped from his bitten lips, eyes closed tight as he grimaced, resigning his pride to the embarrassing truth. “I didn’t have any clothes that needed washed,” He began his confession. “But…I really wanted to hang out with you, so Nino gave me his so I wouldn’t…I don’t know… make things weird?” He covered his face in his hands. His admission stole her breath; he’d made an excuse to hang out with her.“I know, that didn’t exactly go to plan. I’m sorry, I just, I’m not used to this. Hanging out with new people that aren’t forced to spend time with me to further their parents’ agenda or whatever…”

Marinette winced at the weight of his words. The light above them began to flicker, distracting him long enough that she could see the small moon-shaped indentations of where he had been gripping his palm. Oh…she had been too harsh. Adrien just wanted to spend time with her, with someone. With a friend, and she’d been too caught up in her own feelings to realise that he was trying.

“Adrien…” She tried to convey her sympathy, but the words couldn’t come fast enough.

He laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I know I’ve just made this into a bigger mess. You must think I’m such a loser.”

Before she could even think, her hand reached out to his arm, causing him to jump a little. She winced at his reaction, drawing away her contact. “It’s okay, honestly. I’m sorry I freaked, but honestly it’s okay. I would be lying if I said that I wouldn’t go to the same contrived lengths to hang out with you,” Her gaze met the floor as she confessed that last part.

He smiled, a small tired smile that didn’t quite seem convinced. “Since we’re being honest...I’ve had quite a day.” His voice was small, just about loud enough to be heard over the continuous rumbling of the washing machines. “My father came by to visit today and, well it’s complicated. It left me shaken to say the least.” Sensing his anxiety, Marinette tentatively led his hand to rest on the machine. His palms were dry, and beginning to form callouses. Likely an occupational hazard.

When he shot her an inquisitive look, she tried to muster a comforting smile and instructed, “Close your eyes and just focus on the vibrations.” He seemed hesitant but did it regardless. Master Fu’s words appeared like second nature in her brain as she recited breathing patterns that would regulate his heartbeat. After a few surreal moments of Adrien pressings his hands against the vigorously vibrating machine and Marinette counting with a low, even voice, he opened his eyes again.

“Better?” Marinette asked tentatively.

“Much. Where did you learn that?”

She turned her gaze as she smirked, “Yoga.”

They continued their washing in comfortable silence, wordlessly appreciating each other’s presence with a newfound ease, before unintentionally slipping into conversation once more. Marinette had to explain to Adrien that he had been using way too much fabric softener, despite his protest of “the softer the better”. Whilst Adrien had to explain in return that whilst his installed affinity for designer labels was still very much alive, he couldn’t afford to dry clean them so he had a wardrobe filled with items by all her favourite designers, that he didn’t quite have the heart to sell.

After their clothes had washed, Marinette was caught off guard by the abnormal rate of which the time had passed. Just as she was about to toss the damp bundle of clothes into the dryer when Adrien stopped her, “Why don’t we save some time and money and hang them up to dry at mine, and I’ll show you that custom Dior blazer?”

“Only if we can get pizza.”

X

“So…this is it…” Adrien clenched his teeth, a sudden inexplicable feeling of vulnerability twisted his insides. His apartment wasn’t much to brag about. It leaked, it creaked, and the onset of winter had brought its own unique set of challenges. The size certainly left a lot to be desired. But it was his empire, his home-base. It was his.

“It’s so,” Marinette paused, taking in the surroundings, searching for the right description that wouldn’t offend him. It was obvious that he took a great deal of pride in his space. Though it wasn’t meticulously tidy, the sprinkling of fairy lights failing to conceal the peeling wall, and the piles of books neatly stacked against the wall as if that would compensate for the fact that they weren’t stored on a shelf, conveyed a sense of apologetic effort. “It’s so you,” She finally settled. A smile grew on Adrien’s face.

She perched gently on the neatly made bed. Adrien tried to contain his relief that he hadn’t just left them in a bundled state. Her long dark denim overalls complimented the deep blue bedsheets. Adrien’s heart swelled when he realised that they also matched her bright eyes. A subtle flush dispersed across his cheeks as he thought that when he slept in those sheets tonight, he’d be engulfed in that same mesmerising colour. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to go to bed.

Revealing clouds of dust were released as Marinette practically scavenged through Adrien’s ‘closet’, which was actually just a long clothes rail covered by a large linen bed sheet. After pushing aside a series of uniforms and tell-tale cheap fabrics, her breath halted as she was greeted with the sight of designer masterpieces. Some of them familiar, an indication that she was becoming a bit too familiar with Adrien’s work. But some were clearly reserved for events and more private occasions. She tried to imagine any of the masterfully crafted suits or shirts on Adrien, but it didn’t quite fit.

Curiosity finally overcame her reservations, “Why don’t you wear any of these? They’re beautiful…” She mused, thumbing over the ornate stitching.

Adrien settled onto the end of the bed and contemplated the items Marinette had presented to him. The silk navy two piece was the last one of these ridiculous outfits he’d worn, at a gala around a month before his _departure_. Whilst he appreciated the art behind them, they weren’t really his style. Part of him wished he still that obscene clothing budget, but with his control over which items he spent it on.

“They’re not really my thing, besides I don’t exactly have the occasion to wear them,” He chuckled bitterly. He hated how hard it was to vilify every aspect of his former life, especially when faced with the hardships of his newfound frugality. Whilst he would never, could never, return, the absence had highlighted his fonder memories. And the people he had left behind…

Marinette pursed her lips as she carefully returned the suits to their hiding place, sensing Adrien’s melancholy. After considering the sadness in his voice, she found herself unable to maintain her excitement over touching a freaking Gabriel Agreste original with her own hands.“Well, what is your thing then?” She casually sat beside him on the firm mattress, careful to leave a respectful distance.

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really give it that much thought now. Not like I need to,” He shrugged, before catching sight the goosebumps on Marinette’s arms. The wishful though that it was a physical response to him did cross his mind, but only briefly before he realised that it was freezing in his room. “Goddammit, I’m sorry my heating is off right now…” he cursed, omitting the fact that this was an elective choice as he was saving up for the colder months.

“Oh no, I’m fine don’t worry,” She dismissed, resisting the urge to wrap herself in her arms.

Unconvinced, Adrien rose from the bed and grabbed one of his hoodies from the rail and sheepishly offered it to Marinette. She squeaked a thank you before slipping it on, welcoming the warmth and praying that he couldn’t tell that she was screaming on the inside.

“S-should we order some Pizza now?” Adrien stammered jumping at the distraction, thumbing through his phone and leading Marinette into his living room/kitchen/only other room besides the toilet.

It didn’t take long for Marinette to clock the Xbox and collection of games. She knelt on the hardwood floor in front of the tv and scanned them until a particularly familiar one caught her eye. With a squeal she thrust the game into the air and turned to Adrien, “You play ‘Megastrike 5’?” She gasped with excitement.

Swinging his legs over the old plush couch he had ‘rescued’ from the side of the road, he grabbed one of the controls. “Oh, I sure do. Wanna game? Loser has to give Nino back his underwear.”

Their fingers lingered as he passed her a controller. Marinette grinned, settling into the bean bag, “You, my friend, are about to see how it’s done.”

  
X

Let it be known that Gabriel Agreste was a patient man. He knew that the best action is usually to wait and bide your time, but the lack of progress he was making with Adrien was pushing him to his limits. He firmly closed the safe that remained concealed behind his wife’s portrait, as if constantly checking it would cause the missing item to reappear. That stupid, insolent brat. Adrien hadn’t the faintest idea of the lengths Gabriel went to in order to protect him from this. The small paw-print ring that lay tucked within the safe brought back an unpleasant reminder. By taking the Cat Miraculous, he saved Adrien from a miserably chaotic life, and saved himself from the difficult situation of fighting against his own son. He swore he wouldn’t involve Adrien, but now he had become less patient and more desperate.

But Adrien was destined to become the heroic Chat Noir, partners with that insufferable bug. He had involved himself, really, by stealing the peacock Miraculous; he was now risking being drawn into the life of magic and danger. Irritation growing, Gabriel scanned his security footage from the night Adrien ran away. It didn’t take long for him to appear on the screen, sneaking around like a devious child, entering the code to the safe, and staring at the contents before fleeing with the brooch.

“Sir,” Nathalie coughed quietly, “Why would Adrien take it? Do you think he knows of its… _abilities_?”

Gabriel’s weary expression grew contemplative. There was no way Adrien could have known before he stole it. And surely if he had discovered the truth after, they would all know by now. Ignoring Nathalie’s concern, he clicked onto another tab, one displaying the hallway outside Adrien’s apartment door. He almost chuckled, five months had now passed since Gabriel had purchased the entire building, and Adrien still had no idea that his ‘hard-earned money’ was travelling straight back into his trust fund.

“The workings of that foolish boy’s mind are of no consequence to me right now. I just have to find away inside, then we can retrieve the miraculous.” His gaze didn’t move from the screen, “In the meantime, find what you can on this girl here,” The footage was paused on the image of Adrien leading Marinette inside, both of them giggling as they struggled to carry a basket of clothes. She was new, he noticed. “Perhaps if she were to become distressed, an Akuma might just be able find its way in after all.” A calculating grin slowly grew on his face.

“Right away, Sir.”

  
X

  
“It was a mess, Nino, but also kind of amazing? Like obviously the whole laundry catastrophe was hard to get over, but then we just chilled at mine and ate pizza, waited for our clothes to dry, played video games. Did you know that Marinette loved video games?” Adrien’s eyes beamed at his friend, who was growing increasingly tired of his gushing.

“Uh, yeh I guess I did.”

“ _I_ love video games, Nino!” So much so that he couldn’t bring himself to pawn his Xbox.

Nino let out a tired chuckled and unceremoniously kicked a bag of coffee beans across the tiny storeroom. He cleared his throat, “So…I might just have the solution to all your problems and more, my friend,” Nino proudly declared whilst Adrien resumed his counting. Stock-take night was his favourite night of the week, as sad as it sounds. He felt warmed by being entrusted with the responsibility, and it had quickly become a tradition between him and Nino that stock night, was their night.

At that moment, Adrien placed down his clipboard and deftly tossed Nino a can of coke before opening his own. Nino grinned, wordlessly conveying his own joy at such a minor act of rebellion. What isn’t counted isn’t missing; after all two cans of soda will hardly bankrupt the business. Especially after a day like today, god. Adrien took a bubbly gulp as he grimaced at the day’s demanding volume of customers.

“I doubt you were able to hack into my trust fund and acquire a new identity for me,” he sighed. Two and a half more years and he could finally stop waiting and start living.

“No…but now that you mention it, Max is like really good with computers. We could t-“ Nino sensed the growing disdain from Adrien and cut himself short, “Anyways, we’ll put a pin in that for now. So, I cant help but notice that you’ve hit a biiiiit of a wall lately.” He paused to gauge his friend’s reaction before continuing with his master plan, one that might just come off as a tad insulting. But it will be worth it when he finally sees Adrien happy.

“I told you, I’m ‘in-between’ projects is all,” Adrien dismissed the upcoming character assassination. Probably an accurate one if he’s honest. Suddenly he wished he was sipping on something a bit stronger.

“Right, right. Well, just to give you a bit of a boost, in a totally awesome way, Alya and I thought that it would be kind of amazing if you threw a party. A Halloween party.”

Adrien blinked with tired eyes. He could’ve placed a bet on how soon Alya’s name would crop up if a scheme was involved. “Dude, it’s November. And I thought that last night was date night, not ‘meddle in Adrien’s pathetic life’ night.”

Nino waved his hand dismissively, “We can multitask. Plus everyone loves Halloween, any day of the year. But don’t you see how perfect this is? You know it’ll be a good way to give you something to work towards, and introduce you to some new people, and obviously Marinette will be there…”

“Ohhhh, so like, a pity party? Nice.” Adrien deadpanned before deciding that counting decaf pods might be less painful than the direction of this conversation.

“C’mon you know that’s not what I mean, think of it like a belated house-warming slash Halloween …get together!” Nino scrambled. “Plus, you could invite your old friends from the ‘upper echelons’ and show them how us commoners do it, huh?”

At the reference to his friends from, well, before, Adrien paused. Would that work? Would they even answer his calls? He was hit by wave of guilt over his last memories of Chloé, Lila, and…Kagami. They made their distain for his new life very well known, they hadn’t even attempted to contact him since the night he left. Well except the occasional pity call from Chloé asking if he needed money, and if he still had all of his hair. But communication was a two way street, and he hadn’t exactly made the effort either. Maybe this was just what he needed…

“Okay, let’s do it.” Adrien resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I clearly haven't even tried to stick to an updating schedule. I know that I can't make any promises as to how regular updates will come, but I have a lot of ideas for this story and I love writing it. I'm on winter break as soon as my exams finish next week and feeling quite inspired so hopefully I'll get chapter 4 out quite soon.   
> Also, my sister is studying in France so I actually got to visit Paris, which has always been a dream of mine. So I'm glad to have a clearer idea of the setting for this story now too.
> 
> Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!


	4. Adrien's Plan (A Prologue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven months ago, whilst on the cusp of adulthood, Adrien and Chloé decide to change his fate. Consequences be dammed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was about midway through chapter four when I realised that there was a fair amount of background information needed to fully understand the interactions and dynamics between Adrien and his friends from before. I was torn on whether to post this before or after chapter four but I felt a lot more inspired to write this, so here's a lil back story on Adrien's decision to run away.

 

  
Not that Adrien had ever tasted cheap champagne before, but he was almost certain that there was no real difference in quality between that and the and the diamond filtered bubbles that he swigged from that night. But still, he swirled the effervescent liquid in his crystal flute, watching the bubbles reflect the golden light, whilst the constant stream of classical music dulled in his ears. Galas like this particular one were anything but unfamiliar to him by now, he knew the formalities, the manners, the procedures, the appropriate small talk (his excitement over next seasons line, how _splendid_  the dinner was) and the kind of talk that would get him a stern talking to (how all this needless opulence frankly made him want to throw up right in the golden punch bowl). But tonight he just couldn’t muster the energy to don his Adrien Agreste, super-model and heir to the Agreste fortune, persona.

He shifted uncomfortably by the bar as he downed his fourth (?) glass and pretended not to notice Chloé’s burning judgement. Why was she still peering at him, surely Lila, or Kagami, or some snooty diplomat, could entertain her. Why wouldn’t she leave him to steep in his misery.

Finally, she scoffed, “You really are too young to risk being branded as an insufferable lush, Adrien.” Not that he cared, but Chloé only called him by his real name when she was genuinely upset. He tried not to squirm under her scrutiny, but then she deftly grabbed the next champagne flute out of his reach. Adrien dropped his head to the bar with a very undignified thud as he struck the varnished rosewood.

“My life has no meaning. Leave me be,” he groaned, hoping she would actually listen or at least be put off by the stench of his self-pity. He just wanted to go home. His father never had to come to these stupid events, why did he always have to be the Agreste Representative? Just as he thought it couldn’t get any worse, he caught an icy glare from Kagami as she delicately negotiated her way through the crowd. Oh shit.

He looked to Chloé for some aid, but she was sheepishly sipping at his champagne, gaze firmly fixed on the marble tiling. Kagami loomed over him, what with her knife-like heals and his pathetically slumped posture. Her pale arms were folded so tightly that crinkles began to indent in her deep blue satin dress. Not that it really mattered, she was probably planning on throwing it out after tonight anyways.

“Look, I know, I know. I’m just really…not feeling it tonight,” he confessed, loosening his bow tie.

Kagami’s expression didn’t falter, but the building storm behind her eyes almost caused Adrien to yelp.“I don’t _care_ about whether you’re ‘feeling it’ or not, my parents are over there waiting to be pictured with their darling daughter and her angel of a boyfriend!” She hissed, teeth clenching, voice low. He felt a cool welt of guilt in his abdomen. It wasn’t Kagami’s fault. But Adrien was growing tired of being ruled by the whims of her parents, he already had one too many puppet masters in his life.

He reached for her hand. She resisted initially, but eventually warmed to his gesture. Still, her poker face wasn’t enough to hide the grimace that occurred when she realised how sweaty Adrien’s palms were. “You’re in a state, they can’t see you like this.”

“B-but the picture…just give me a few minutes to freshen up and-”

“No,” she silenced him, “Chlo, would you mind accompanying me instead?” Her tone softened. If Adrien weren’t so ashamed of himself, he might’ve noticed the flush across Chloé’s cheeks as she muttered an agreement. “Perfect, come to the foyer in five,” she sucked in a breath before smoothing her dress and marching away.

“Why doesn’t she just dump me,” Adrien groaned.

“Why doesn’t she…” Chloé mused whilst staring at the spot where Kagami was standing. Seemingly realising how callous and _audible_ her words were, she gently patted Adrien’s shoulder, “Because she loves you, silly. As to why she loves you, well heaven knows.” She let out a teasing chuckle.

Adrien grinned, deciding he couldn’t be bothered to analyse his girlfriend’s motivations right now. Not when he could be embarrassing himself in front of his father’s sheep. He steadied himself as he noticed a crowd of paparazzi crammed by one of the large bay windows. Time to put on a show that even Gabriel Agreste couldn’t ignore.

A gloved hand yanked his collar, causing him to stumble back into his seat by the bar. Lila’s gloved hand. He was starting to feel outnumbered here. The brunette laughed haughtily as she perched at Chloé’s side. “You really are on a mission tonight aren’t you?” She smirked. Her long burnt-auburn dress wasn’t familiar to him, he noticed. Usually Lila was a serial outfit-repeater, shamed by many of these busybody socialites and heiresses. The sad fact was that whilst she came from a respectable and successful family, this still wasn’t quite her circle. Despite her efforts to convey otherwise.

“He’s in an awfully sour mood, has been all evening.” Chloé huffed, reapplying her lipstick.

“So what’s the plan, Agreste? You going to moon a dignitary, punch a waiter?” Her barely concealed grin implied that she was enjoying this way too much. Adrien causing a scene was just was this dull evening needed.

“I just- I just want to go home…No actually, I wanna go anywhere but home. I wanna leave there, here, everywhere. All of this… it’s suffocating,” he whined. Chloé and Lila exchanged worried glances, becoming concerned over his sincerity.

“Lila, honey, could you do me a favour? Go to Kagami in the foyer and tell her I’m taking Adrien out for some air, please.” Lila appeared hesitant, but left as Chloé requested. Before he could even digest the situation, Chloé had hauled him off his stool and was ushering him to the garden. The humid early summer air only made him feel even more claustrophobic, but at least that stupid music had diminished and he could hear the wind rustling the trees and hedges around him. They made their way to a bench enshrouded by a blooming magnolia tree. The petals almost seemed translucent in the moonlight.

“Thanks, Chloé, I needed to get out of there,” he exhaled, unbuttoning his constrictive waistcoat.

She turned to face him with a nervous resolve, “Did you mean what you said in there? Do you…want to run away?” Her voice barely a whisper, despite their isolation.

It caused Adrien pause, that is what he said, wasn’t it? And he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. It’s not like he was being interviewed, or scripted, or grilled by his father, he was speaking candidly to his friends. He took a moment to watch the clouds make their sleepy path across the stars. “Yes, I did.”

Chloé bit her lip, as if in turmoil with herself, “Then, why don’t you?” Adrien’s eyes narrowed, waiting for a laugh or a friendly jab on his shoulder; she couldn’t possibly be serious. “Think about it, Adrikins, you’ll be eighteen in under a month now, legally, you could just go, if you’re as miserable as you say…”

He couldn’t believe her words. How could she suggest something so crazy? Just thinking about something so disobedient caused his pulse to quicken uncomfortably. “But…how? My father, he would cut me off, how would I survive on my own?” He almost pleaded, desperately praying for viable solutions.

“Well, you’ll have access to your trust fund once you turn twenty one, and in the mean time you could,” she paused, brows furrowed, “Ha! You could get a job! I mean, people do it…Even Sabrina has one! I’m sure if she can do it, you surely can.” She laughed, despite the increasing severity of their words. Could he seriously do this?

“But, what about you? What about…Kagami,” he gulped. Chloé twisted her hands in silence. He couldn’t just leave her. He loved her, right? But was that enough? Was his tenuous relationship with her enough to keep him imprisoned in his own despair?

“If...she loves you,” Chloé’s soft voice cut the silence, “Then she would understand. She wouldn’t force you into a life of pretence and misery.”

He wasn’t convinced. But maybe he should at least try, maybe instead of constantly wallowing and making futile attempts at communicating with his impenetrable father and cursing his fate, he could finally take control of his life. He hadn’t felt a surge of devious excitement like this since he attempted to attend school. Suddenly all he could do was imagine ways out.

“Hypothetically speaking, how would I do it?” He knew those words could never be unsaid, but he needed this.

Chloé shifted slightly, “You’ll need to save up. Start squirrelling away cash, sell some clothes, watches, whatever. Then we’ll need to find you somewhere to stay…”

X

“Jean found an apartment on the other side of the Seine. Honestly speaking, it’s kind of a hovel. But it’s within your budget.” Chloé announced as she swirled her office chair towards Adrien. He paced thoughtfully across her bedroom floor. He had three days until his birthday, three days until the result of all their scheming and planning comes to fruition. He hadn’t slept last night, and it showed. Although he knew that Chloé’s words were good news, he dreaded the inevitable next step in his plan: telling Kagami. The fact that he’d left it this long was really pathetic, but every time he so much as hinted at the prospect of deviating from what was planned for them, an argument erupted.

“Okay, okay,” he ran his fingers through his hair whilst he checked the time on his new watch, “I’m meeting Kagami in fifteen minutes. Oh god, Chloé. How do I tell her?” He begged. He couldn’t help but realise that whilst Chloé was determined to help Adrien with the practical aspects and logistics of their scheme, whenever he broached the topic of his relationship, she became uncharacteristically quiet. “She’s not going to like this, I can just tell. What if she tries to stop me? What if she warns my father?”

“We can’t risk that.” Chloé spoke quietly.

“What do you mean, what else can I do? At the very least I owe her an explanation…” His stomach sank with the weight of his nerves. Suddenly all the cracks in their insane plan were beginning to break apart right in front of him. But he was too far gone; he’d tasted too much freedom to ever go back to his sham of a life.

“Break up with her.” Her words pierced, her voice hoarse.

Although he was very certain that Kagami would vehemently oppose this plan, he hadn’t considered ending their relationship. Even though things had been quite tense lately, they had so many happy memories. He faced Chloé, brows furrowed. Although she had many, many, facets to her large personality, this side of her was very unfamiliar.

His contemplative silence seemed to have pushed her too far, and Chloé let out a groan of frustration, “Think about it, Adrien! She’ll go ballistic! She’ll stop you and all of this will be for nothing. She wouldn’t stay with you anyway, so end it whilst you still have a chance.”

Taken aback, Adrien could barely conduct a response, “Break up with her…I can’t, Chloé I-I can’t do that to her…” Could he?

“Why the hell not?" She finally demanded, voice fraught with frustration, "Look Adrien I can’t stand by and watch you continue to be a sleeping partner in your own relationship. I know Kagami is all kinds of repressed and emotionally unavailable, but she still has _feelings_. How do you think it feels for her to be in a sham of a relationship when she’s only seventeen years old?” Her hands were firmly knotted at her sides, something he knew she did when she was trying to stop them from shaking,” We can all tell that you don’t love her anymore, so get your head of out your ass and stop being so fucking selfish for once.”

His ears were ringing at his oldest and best friend’s outburst. She’d said it with so much venom that her voice was unrecognisable to him. But the words were all too familiar, they had lurked in the back of his mind for over a year now. He had just chosen not to listen to them. He had chosen the easy, passive route of tuning out the fact that his relationship was already over. If he loved and respected  
Kagami in any way, he’d free her from him. He’d let her go, enable her to find happiness with someone she deserves.

Adrien had been a pitiful coward, a spineless rag doll. But he could change. He could do the one thing he would never dare to do: he could run.

X

A note. He had left two notes. One an apology; one a smoking gun. One for his ex-girlfriend and first love, one for his dictatorial father.

Whilst Kagami and him were finished, he still cared deeply for her and she deserved a goodbye. His cowardly actions were just one of many guilt inducing behaviours that he had allowed to accumulate on top of him. But there was just no other way around this impossible situation that he could see, and he was running out of time. He had suspected her to scream, to finally lose her composure, but she said nothing. He’ll never forget the look on her face, so twisted with pain and something he couldn’t place, maybe fear?

As he approached the end of the driveway, he caught sight of Chloé’s silhouette on the other side of the fence. The sun was barely high enough in the sky for shadows to form, so he could scarcely make out the shape of the object next to her. As he approached closer, it became clear that Chloé was perched next to a motorbike. _His_ bike, the one he thought he had sold last month. Without hesitation, he entered the code, and the gates heaved open.

Chloé tossed him the helmet that she was clutching, along with a pair of keys. “Happy Birthday, Adrikins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate him too much, he's just a dumb kid. Also don't judge Chloé and Kagami too much just yet, I have a lot more planned for those two ;)
> 
> Also something I've came to realise is just how many Scottish/British phrases I use. Obviously this is set in France but written in English, so I've been trying to use neutral language/americanisms as I think that's what most people universally understand. It's quite an effort as where I live you'll get an onslaught of verbal abuse for using Americanisms lmao. So if I slip up and use some phrases that you don't understand or my language isn't consistent (i.e. saying flat instead of apartment) please don't be afraid to let me know!
> 
> Happy holidays guys, whatever you celebrate or not : )

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! check out my twitter for more cartoon nonsense @sailorariess


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